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TWENTY-NINE
29
Blanche has scarcely said a word since our flight left Heathrow. Her silences can be so eloquent.
I told her that she didn't have to come. "I'm sure you've got enough on work-wise."
"I have," she replied, "but how am I going to keep you out of trouble if I don't go with you." The faintest of smiles wrinkles the corners of her eyes.
It's incredible how little I know about her. She has children – twins – but doesn't talk about them. Her mother is in a retirement home. Her stepfather is dead. I don't know about her birth father as she's never mentioned it before.
Blanche is the most self-sufficient woman I have ever met. She doesn't appear for human contact or needs anyone. You can those survival shows on TV where people are separated into competing tribes and try to win immunity. Blanche would be a tribe of one, all on her own, and would come out on top every time.
Paris. It makes me think of finance, diplomacy, commerce, fashio
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